The warehouse of B. Bennett, straw hat manufacturer, at the corner of George Street and King Street, has been the venue of some strange and mysterious happenings, the details of which would furnish admirable material for an up-to-date cinema play.
They commenced last Thursday [October 5th, 1916] when a complete stranger to the firm (and evidently to the town) succeeded in gaining admittance to the premises by the side door in King Street and, in sneaking down some stairs, into the basement.
From this retreat he was ignominiously ejected after a tussle, and got away, but he returned again about 8 o'clock the same evening and essayed to enter by the front door. He had only succeeded in getting his head inside when an employee (named Jack Hubbard) made a grab at him and he quickly bolted, the young fellow promptly chasing him along Manchester Street, and losing him in the darkened street and crowd.
Naturally, it was thought this was the last of the stranger and the incident, but, curiously enough, the mysterious visitant returned on Monday evening about 6.15 pm, and the alert Mr Hubbard heard his entrance, again by the side door. The visitor once more succeeded in reaching the basement and hiding himself.
Mr Hubbard proceeded to investigate, and on reaching the bottom step of the staircase received a blow on the head before he could round the corner. A tussle ensued. and eventually the plucky employee broke away and went in search of something with which to defend himself.
Returning with a handy bar of iron, he was faced by the man, who in the meantime had managed to get possession of a hatchet and then - as Mr Hubbard remarked - "the fun began".
"There were we, two fellows chasing one another round the basement trying to get in a finishing blow. I received a knock at the back of the heard, but soon after my antagonist fortunately fell over some boxes, bending some ironwork with a blow he had intended for me, and I got him as he fell with a sufficiently forceful tap on the head with my iron bar to lay him out.
"Fastening him with some rope, as I thought, securely, I ran up King Street to the factory for assistance. When I returned with it, to my disgust, I found that the fellow, who must have been shamming, had managed to cut the rope and get clear away. That is the last we have seen of him.
"He was a biggish chap, about 5ft 10in, with a fancy for green, for he wore a green slouch hat, a red scarf with green spots (or vice-versa), a green coat and brown trousers. Despite his fancy for colour, he was a ragged kind of a chap, and I cannot imagine what his little game was, unless to had designs on Parr's Bank, which adjoins us,or perhaps he hoped to remain undiscovered until we had all left the premises and then meant to continue investigations in the offices above.
"Anyhow, a description of the man has been given to the police, and we do not anticipate any more of his unwelcome attentions or visits or any more tussles in the basement. Oh yes, the hatchet was our property, and I could not say whether he had any burglarious implements secreted about him, but I was jolly glad I had the 'jemmy' with which to defend myself, for he was a rough handful and behaved more like a madman than I cared for."
[The Luton News: Thursday, October 12th, 1916]
The Bennett building with light-coloured walls is shown in the above 1906 photo of the corner of George Street and King Street.